


Cup of Ace

by Darkrealmist



Series: Yu-Gi-Oh! Antagonist Prose [6]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! GX
Genre: Aliens, Body Horror, Character Study, Creature Fic, Cthulhu Mythos, Destruction, End of the World, Fantasy, Fate & Destiny, Gen, Insanity, Lovecraftian, Mind Control, Monsters, Multiple Personalities, Poetry, Prose Poem, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Sharing a Body, Space Opera, Spiritual, Tarot, Villains, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, Wordcount: Over 1.000, Wordcount: Under 10.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-06 03:01:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18842278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkrealmist/pseuds/Darkrealmist
Summary: The touch of darkness is intangible when lowered upon one enslaved by light.





	Cup of Ace

Cup of Ace

Author’s Note: Wrote this twelve years ago. Enjoy the poem and R&R.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or of the Yu-Gi-Oh! GX series.

Summary:

The touch of darkness is intangible when lowered upon one enslaved by light.

* * *

 There are those who fear darkness  
The livid scream through corridors of glimps’d nothingness  
The listless future incited by the unspoken, the impalpable, and the uninformed  
Howls in the distance, devoid of sound  
Shadows melting, returned to dust and grime  
Phantasmagoric fingers outstretch into the mists, incorporeal as they graze the veldt  
Barely finding purchase on clouded nightmares  
Thirst broods like absented cancer  
The tongue is scraped of flesh, the throat filled with rust  
Eyes blackened in their sockets, air stripped from asphyxiated lungs  
From the lake, the goblet rose, awash with summer flora and rose-scented elixir  
_Drink_ , a voice demanded,  _and all will be well_  
An upturned reversal of fate  
_Bury the skies in azure currents_  
The potion’s tang was sensed till the very last drop disappeared  
Sinful white – Hell’s finest banquet  
A light that must not shine

**The Material Road**

Within Fate’s workshop, beyond prairies of bronze daffodils and clockwork entrance hall  
Ashen hands, dripping red, twiddle and tinker away at arcane subjects  
Irises of dull blue and faded granite torn to the cheek  
Bloody runes engraved into silver palms  
The magus’ misfortune tweaks the interest of the harlequin, who is only paces behind  
Noxious fumes escape the skin, burning through tendon and lace, silk and bone  
An undying fire that curses its handler  
A long-abandoned craft which forsakes the forsaken  
“I am who is, and who was, and who is to come”  
The ticking of a broken pocket watch  
Urges the Magician to desert his work 

Within Fate’s throne room, looking upon reflecting pools and porcelain tiles  
Veiled maiden, proud and motherly, enacts her lord’s decree  
Breasts exposed to vexatious air  
Boils and abscesses spread about diseased arms  
The queen’s plight is forwarded by the priestess, feather stained with ink  
Castle guards rush to her side, but lower themselves to the murder of Her Highness  
A treacherous cordon that butchers its benefactress  
A call to battle which silences the silent  
“Strengthen what remains and is about to die”  
The swiftly-forgotten lineage  
Curses the Empress with disremembering joy

Within Fate’s kingdom, past outer city limits and stone effigy  
Crowned aristocrat, on horseback, gallops into the village with a manic grin  
Cleaved torso grafted to his neighing beast  
Blade still jutting from between dangling nerves  
The king’s disfigurement is mourned by the matriarch, lifeless on the ground  
Head thrown back in deranged glee, as though he were being treated with electroshock  
A steed that incapacitates its rider  
A mutinous flaw which terminates the terminated  
“There before me was a throne in heaven with someone sitting on it”  
The fall of a thrice-scorned empire  
Drives the Emperor to madness

Within Fate’s bedroom, behind drawn curtains and locked door  
Undressed couple, passionate and fierce, indulge in wanton desire  
Clothing in scraps clinging to bare legs  
Jewelry biting hard into the neck, so forceful as to snap it in two  
The partnership’s end is declared by the priest, hollering to the mob  
Child of incarnate wastes, spawned of erring wedlock  
An infant that beleaguers its parents  
An unwilling heart which foresees the foreseen  
“I watched as he opened the sixth seal”  
The sexless relationship  
Pains the Lovers with malaise

Within Fate’s countryside, atop trampled grass and private courtyard  
Imperial carriage, gilded and obtuse, enters onto the overpass  
Serrated wheels threshing through the dirt  
Tethers strewn in a flailing mass, like the tentacles of some oceanic Kraken  
The wagon’s destination is imparted by the progenitors, condemned and ashamed  
Every trip wrangles a new client, choking though the process may be  
A stagecoach that throttles its passengers  
A rope which subverts the subverted  
“These are they who have come out of the great tribulation”  
The foolhardy transmigration  
Sends the Chariot to cliff’s edge

**The Spiritual Road**

Within Fate’s battlefield, before shielded rows and armed infantry  
Disciplined claw, brutal and firm, closes around the underdog’s skull  
Plethora of bruises running down his back  
Knuckles pressed into the arena, nails scouring hedge  
The fist’s mark is carried by the transport, navigated onwards in urgency  
Squandering of power, falsified trustworthiness  
A might that exhausts its fighter  
A pentacle which commands the commanded  
“There came peals of thunder, rumblings, flashes of lightning and an earthquake”  
The dissipation of once-exonerative valour  
Impairs Strength with meagre push

Within Fate’s woodland, from above treetops and motionless foliage  
Alien cadaver, blemished and deformed, rocks to midnight cadence  
Inverted guillotine speared through by falchions  
Sightless face dragged along the forest floor  
The lynched one’s crucifixion is invited by the gavel-bearing mitt, guiltless and unjust  
Deriding is the execution, no shed of crimson  
A vision that pronounces stagnation on its seeker  
A selection of suits which proposes the proposed  
“They did not love their lives so much as to shrink from death”  
The inmate on death row  
Becomes the Hanged Man to noon’s clamour

Within Fate’s amphitheatre, among roaring spectators and rehearsed orchestra  
Cackling noblewoman, bewitching and resigned, awaits first dance  
Vivacious hair dirtied without headdress  
Brooch dropped carelessly from leather-gloved paw  
The abstinent countess’ bauble is procured by the reaper, lethargic towards his duties  
From the mezzanine come jeers of retaliation, authentic raucous  
A regulation that spurns its legislator  
A moderation which annuls the annulled  
“They are blameless”  
The unannounced intervention  
Guides Temperance with heedless affirmation

Within Fate’s netherworld, from below tempestuous blazes and iniquitous nest  
Immoral demon, skeletal and cyclopean, orders the ruin of all  
Triplet omniscient hemorrhaging globes  
Heliotrope ignited in steam-congested aperture, profane supplication  
The fiend’s alms is partitioned by the lady, ignorant sacrificial lamb  
Ooze spewing from fractured cartilage, inconceivable twisting of frame  
A scythe that shreds its undertaker  
A compensation which defiles the defiled  
“Out of the temple came the seven angels with the seven plagues”  
The chronicled disaster  
Tempts the Devil to macabre comedy

Within Fate’s reflection, beneath pockmarked gorges and bubbling crater  
Gibbous entity, indecipherable and hieroglyphic, awakens from phantom slumber  
Umbrageous outbreak on anemic cheeks  
Ruptured gestating walls eclipsed by crescents, unconcealed veins  
The satellite’s blanket is attended to by the stars, guileless servants  
Waning stillbirth delivered through membranous bosom, detached cacophony  
An illusion that besots its witness  
A dream which muddies the muddied  
“A haunt for every unclean spirit”  
The obscuring of the phases  
Washes the Moon ashore with hallucination 

**The Heavens Road**

Within Fate’s universe, between lingering seconds and turnstile hour  
Suffering planet, crestfallen and removed, withers conterminously with time  
Tenebrous wreath of Sephiroth  
Binary constellation mapped ubiquitously onto bas-relief, geometric superimposition  
The terrene’s revolution is dowsed by the inquest, redeemed verdict  
Over catastrophe the populace totters, ludicrous return  
A cycle that breaches its circle  
An eternity which embodies the embodied  
“I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End”  
The movement of spheres across the cosmos  
Ordains the World to destruction

Within Fate’s bounds, amidst gravitating tetrahedra and jettisoned mosaic  
Creative destructor, almighty and exceeding ultimate, unmakes faded essence  
Sanguine glow throwing open the hatches of draconic horror  
Nebulous vortex and rippling core, conflagrated quasar  
The ruler’s descent is polished by the smog-effused pillars, tipped scales  
Unsound resurrection from Golgotha, aurous palisade  
A scripture that misnames its messiah  
A candelabra which recovers the recovered  
“There will be no more night. They will not need the light of the sun”  
The white rapid at galaxy’s edge  
Premonition of the End of Ray

The monsoon that dares quaff the Twelve Apostles  
Seeps traceless onto tousled sand dunes  
The chasm that glut sanity  
Advises by wand to R’lyeh, submersed basilica  
Exhumed monolith belches brackish water, loathsomely drained through vaulted edifice  
Desiccated morass of bald raptor, frittered spells, and spoiled masonry  
The roulette called Destiny spins, reborn in reverse  
Bottled yesterdays cast into a sea of fire, embezzled orrery  
Outrunning echoes at the finish line  
Had he so much to gamble, that he be saved too late  
Vagabond splash of forlorn sorcery  
_You and I are alike…Monsters conceived of fate_  
A stormy interlude  
_This world, this star system, this universe will be dyed white_  
The chalice is empty  
The last stop on an incomplete, derailed track  
A hope for darkness in lucent Tartarus


End file.
